


Our Solitary Pledge

by princesskay



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s05e04 In The Flesh, Established Relationship, F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Punishment, Roleplay, Rough Sex, S&M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 21:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11170356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: It didn’t matter that he’d had sex just last night - that was Valerie, a pale reflection, an act, an experience so subpar it was hardly worth a footnote in he and Kathryn’s own illustrious relationship. She’d been a chess piece, skillfully moved between them for tonight’s payoff. Nothing more. He couldn’t recall the staid, unremarkable pleasure of fucking her with Kathryn gazing down at him with all her appeal - and her cruelty - bared.An episode tag for "In The Flesh" where things go a little farther than a kiss between Chakotay and Valerie. When they return from the habitat, Kathryn is curious about the 8472 that caught Chakotay's attention- and more than eager to bring his attention back to her.





	Our Solitary Pledge

The humid, cloying atmosphere of the habitat still clung to Chakotay’s neck when they transported back into the controlled environment of  _ Voyager.  _ The recreation of Starfleet Headquarters made by Species 8472 had been real down to the minute details of San Francisco weather. The attention to detail extended to the human bodies, as functional as their aesthetics. 

He’d followed his instincts, right up until the moment Valerie kissed him. He’d gone off script, and he was lucky things had ended as positively as they had. 

Now, he knew exactly where he was going again. 

With Alpha Shift over, Chakotay took the corridors to the staff quarters, passing his own doorway on the path to hers. They’d barely exchanged five words since their return from the Starfleet simulation, but the intent was clear in her eyes. 

His heart chugged along at a steady, shallow pace. The anticipation was as thick and suffocating as the San Francisco summer heat. After so long, he’d grown accustomed to the sweaty palms, the twinge of painful arousal, the gut-twisting understanding that he was so far from claiming the pleasure he longed for. 

Days had a way of flying by on  _ Voyager,  _ while the nights stretched on with the infinite darkness of space. She knew exactly how to play him, how to toy with his needs, how to stretch him to the breaking point. 

He’d woken that slumbering, feral woman, this time with measured intent. It had been far too long since they’d met on such uneven ground. 

At the door of her quarters, he hesitated. His hands curled into fists at his sides, aware of the gathering perspiration in his palms. A shaft of desire pierced his belly at the thought of what lay beyond the door, forcing his hand up to the chime. 

He rang only once before the doors swished open. 

Inside, he could make out only figures and shapes in the shadows. She’d kept the lights purposefully low to mask her position. He didn’t need his vision to know she was lying in wait;  _ expecting  _ his arrival. 

Where else would he go after a day like today? Where else would he get the singular, erotic satisfaction of her power over him?

The door closed behind him, sealing his fate. 

He scanned the darkness, his eyes slowly adjusting to make out the shapes of the chair and coffee table, and the doorway to her bedroom. The shadows undulated in the doorframe, her figure becoming apparent. 

“Over here.” 

Her voice snaked through the darkness, low and smokey and matching the hum of energy beginning to flow between them. 

Chakotay walked toward the sound of her voice. His heartbeat echoed into the silence, a tribal drum roll of mounting need. 

When he reached the doorway, her voice issued a low command. “Computer, lights. Lowest setting.” 

Golden light spilled from overhead, dispersing the shadows and casting her face in a dim glow. Her hair spilled in luscious, auburn waves around her shoulders, and her eyes glowed midnight blue in the meager light. She had discarded her jacket, but maintained the shirt underneath which proudly displayed her pips - maintaining her captain’s status despite this rendezvous hardly fitting protocols. He wouldn’t have preferred it any other way. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we got back.” She said, cocking her head inquisitively. 

“It’s been a stressful day.” 

“Mm.” She hummed, her mouth tipping into a coy smile, “Stressful days require relief. Don’t you agree?” 

Chakotay nodded. Need knotted at the back of his tongue, barring any further agreement. The look in her eyes was already making his frustration and need collide, meeting hard between his legs; he doubted that pressure would be relieved any time soon. She always had a plan. 

Kathryn turned on her heel, and crossed the room to the nightstand. She’d poured out a glass of wine in advance, an aperitif to pique his desires. Holding it aloft, she motioned for him to come closer. 

As if a puppet pulled on a string, he joined her by the bed. 

She took a sip of the wine, her rosy lips curling around the rim and her pale throat bobbing around the liquid. She released a small sigh, her tongue curling over her lips to retrieve the glistening remnants of the wine. 

Chakotay took a shallow, shivering breath as she extended the glass to him. 

He tightened his grip around the stem of the glass, pushing down the tremble in his fingers. He took a low sip, disinterested in the flavor. His focus was on her, only her. 

She set the glass down, and turned a searing gaze to him. 

“We haven’t had much time to discuss what happened down there.” She said, “I’m curious, Chakotay; how  _ did  _ Valerie get a sample of your DNA?”

Chakotay’s gaze lowered toward the carpet, an instinctive attempt to shield the truth in his eyes. 

“Just be truthful, and this night might go more to your advantage than you’re thinking.” 

Her charge did little to ease the rising tempo of his pulse. 

“You approved the mission, and I told you that we were going on a date.” He said, “We did. We had a few drinks, then we went back to her place.” 

Kathryn’s chin lifted, her eyes sparking with interest. 

Before he could narrate further, she swept past him in a flurry of tantalizing perfume. The smell was a familiar element, a signpost on nights like these. She never wore the scent otherwise, and thus, his body had an almost Pavlovian response, conjuring up frequently visited memories of the sting and burn of punishment. 

He ducked his head, curling his hands into fists against the lurch of need. 

Breathing past gritted teeth, he slowly turned his gaze to where Kathryn stood before the replicator. Unlike with dinner, the replicator cooperated fully with her at times like these. Whatever came out of it’s mouth, it would be perfectly crafted to specifications. 

He had only to suffer in anticipation for a few moments before she turned from the replicator with the chosen implement held between her hands.

It was simple. Black. A devastating tool in capable hands, composed of a handle with a tailored grip and a rectangular piece of wood encased in leather. 

His heart thundered, taking up a hollow, deafening beat of inescapable desire. His gut clenched, phantom licks of pain already scorching underneath his uniform. 

“Valerie.” Kathryn said, the woman’s name rolling off her tongue like honey, “You’re going to tell me about her.” 

Chakotay reached out to steady himself against the edge of the nightstand. 

“What do you want to know?” He asked, struggling to keep his voice low and even. 

She advanced on him, her stride purposeful, her gaze fixed and pulsating with twisted desires. 

“What interested you?” 

Chakotay shook his head, cleared his throat to find his voice. “She was … pretty, intelligent.” 

“Intelligent?” 

“She was reading a book on Vulcan philosophy when I first met her at the bar.” 

“Not many people who can stomach it.” Kathryn said, her brow arching curiously. “So far, so good.” 

She paused just in front of him, tapping the paddle casually against her palm. She nodded at his uniform, her gaze flicking up down the front of him to note his burgeoning erection. 

“Undress.” She said, her tone soft and almost conversational. 

Uncurling his fists, Chakotay reached for the front of his jacket. Her gaze was on him, intent and burning as he dragged the zipper down, and shrugged out of the garment. 

As he unbuttoned his trousers, she bit down on her lower lip. He dropped the pants to his ankles, and her nostrils flared at the sight of his cock, swollen and throbbing, trapped under the restrictive fabric of his boxers. 

He reached for the waistband, but she put a hand on his wrist. 

“Just the shirt for now.” 

He swallowed, his eyelids sliding shut against the thoughts her command inspired. She meant to stretch this discipline out. She meant to revert them back to the infant stage of this relationship by starting out on clothed skin; only this time, unlike those first few rounds with the paddle when they had both been uncertain, she wouldn’t stop at a few experimental licks. 

Despite the realization, he felt no dread, only lurching, pounding desire. 

He dragged the shirt off over his head, eager to launch them into the next step of this measured dance. 

She perused his naked chest with apparent satisfaction. Easing closer, she laid a hand on his side, and bent her head to leave a row of wet, hot kisses down his chest and against his nipple. 

It took every ounce of strength in him to keep his hands at his sides when all he wanted to do was grasp her by the hair and kiss her with furious passion. 

He let out a slow, steadying breath as she lifted her head to look him in the eyes. 

“Is that how she kissed you?” Kathryn murmured, her voice taking a low, throaty tenor that sent fire to his groin. 

He shook his head. “No, she … she was … inexperienced. Coarse.” 

Kathryn took a step back, motioning to the floor with the paddle. 

“Kneel down.” 

Need screamed through his brain, but his throat was impossibly tight. He was silent as he lowered himself to his knees in front of her. 

She flicked a finger toward the bed. “Bend over.” 

A groan twisted up the back of his throat, but he didn’t let it pass his lips. His stomach was doing backflips, his cock bucking against his boxers with eager need. Breaking silence now would get him nowhere; and he needed the night to keep moving as swiftly as possible, afraid the moment she touched the leather to his ass, he would be spilling his orgasm into the front of his boxers. 

He leaned over the edge of the mattress, settling his cheek against the cotton sheet. He stretched his fingers forward to take two handfuls of the bedspread, preparing himself to sit properly through the punishment. 

Once he was bent over, Kathryn circled behind him. He could feel her gaze scorching down his bare shoulders and back, to the clinging material of his boxers. She enjoyed his submissive position for what seemed like an eternity before she spoke again. 

“So, you went back to her place?” 

“Yes.” He whispered. 

“What did you talk about?” 

“Pretending to be human … the difficulties of not transitioning back to their form. There was a mention of literature.” 

“Were you thinking about fucking her?” 

He considered the question for a breathless moment before nodding. 

“Why? What was so attractive about her?” 

“She had no idea what it was like.” He murmured, “Never experienced a human orgasm … She was a blank page.” 

“And you wanted to show her the upside of being human?” 

He nodded, peering over his shoulder to see where she was at. 

Kathryn paced behind him, holding the paddle loosely at her side. She stopped just behind him, her gaze scorching into his bare skin, then lower. 

He held his eyes shut, hardly daring to breathe. His lungs lurched against his fastened lips, only expunging the twisted, high-pitched sound waiting at the back of his tongue when she delivered the first strike. 

The leather cracked against his backside, sending needles of pain slipping past the thin barrier of his boxers and into his skin. It didn’t hurt anymore than he could handle, but the first blow was always the worst - and the best. No amount of anticipation and preparation could make him ready for the discipline to begin. 

He lurched against the mattress, his knuckles blanching around the sheets. A whimper coiled in the back of his throat, ready to spring at her behest. 

“She had no idea.” Kathryn echoed, “No idea that _ this _ is what really turns you on.” 

He gave a halting nod, more eager to please her than before with the first fingers of pain lacing into his belly and cock. 

“Who initiated it?” She pressed. 

“She did.” He choked out, “She kissed me first, I-”

The paddle swung down to meet his ass, severing the words into a sharp cry. Pain hummed across his skin, dragging his cock painfully tight. 

He rushed to finish his response, knowing she wouldn’t wait on him to recover. 

“I resisted at first, but she was persistent. She pressed herself against me, and she wasn’t wearing anything but a thin robe.” 

With a resonating crack, the third spanking came just as the words left his mouth. He jerked against the mattress, choking back a keening whimper. 

“I’m sure you made quick work of that.” Kathryn murmured. 

Chakotay stilled as she laid a gentle hand against his lower back. Her palm slid up slowly, following the curve of his spine and inciting a low ripple of tingles through his body. He arched against the pleasant touch, his eyes slipping shut against the tiny, allowed pleasure. 

Her hand locked abruptly around the hair at his nape, pushing his face roughly into the sheets. 

“Were you rough with her like this?” Kathryn said, bending over to whisper in his ear, “Or were you gentle and kind with her virginal body?” 

The paddle slid in an erotic circle over his backside, threatening him to speak. He bit back a moan, his fingers clenching so hard around the sheets his bones felt as if they might break. When the spanking came, measured and severe, he couldn’t stop the wavering cry that erupted from his lips. 

“She was eager.” He panted, “She wanted it hard!”

“Don’t tell me she was in control.” 

He shook his head vehemently. “No, no, but she … but-”

The paddle cracked down, interrupted his tenuous train of thought and sending a wave of pain and pleasure through his whole body. He could feel his skin beginning to sting and chafe against the fabric, and his belly twisted at the thought of her finally relieving him of the boxers. 

“She begged me to go harder.” He whispered, raggedly. 

“Did she come with your cock inside her?” Kathryn asked, “Or was it while your fingers were rubbing her clit?” 

“Both, she-”

Again, the fiery lick of the paddle interrupted his choked explanation. 

“You’re quite the expert aren’t you?” Kathryn murmured, her voice lilting with self-satisfied amusement. 

“After the first one, she wanted it again.” He replied, each word coming out a raspy whisper between his ragged panting, “She thought my cock was the only way, but I showed her with my fingers, my mouth-”

The paddle struck, sending him arching and twisting against the bed. A gasp tore from his lips, tailed by a shuddering moan. 

“Kathryn…” 

“Mm?” She murmured, bending to press a kiss against the back of his perspiring neck. 

He swallowed thickly, pressing his eyes shut against the roar of need in his mind. 

“Please.” He whispered, pushing the desperation from his voice. 

“Please what?” 

“You know.” He hissed, his face flushing with heat. 

They’d been here for mere minutes, but she had a way of stripping him of his power and dignity that stretched the encounter on into infinity. 

She leaned back, considering his prostrate position with a scathing gaze. 

“All right.” She said, “You can take them off.” 

Keeping his face against the sheets, Chakotay grabbed at the waistband of his boxers with shaking hands. He tore the fabric from his hips, catching it momentarily on his aching cock before he wrestled himself free. He wrangled the boxers from his ankles, and threw them away, eager to expedite the touch of the leather against his bare skin. 

She eased closer, perusing his naked body, the slight color of pink on his backside where she had struck with the paddle.

The leather whispered against the curve of his ass, following a circular pattern that pressed the burn deeper into his skin. 

“How many times did she come?” Kathryn asked. 

Chakotay pressed his eyes shut, anticipating the paddle with unfettered eagerness. 

“Three.” He breathed. 

_ Crack!  _

The paddle came swiftly, igniting fresh pain across his newly exposed flesh. It sank like a thousand needles into his skin, leaving him burning, throbbing. 

“And you?” 

“Just once.” 

“Mm, such a generous man.” 

The paddle answered for him, a loud, sharp sound like the strike of lightning that echoed through his mind and body a dozen times. 

“Ah-” The sound leapt from his throat before he choked it back. 

“How many times do you think you’ll come tonight?” Kathryn asked, trailing her fingertips down his arching, stiffening back. 

“However many you say.” 

He could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Your obedience is arousing.” 

“Then you’re as wet as I am hard.” 

“Oh, no, no, no.” She said, clicking her tongue softly, “Don’t think you’re getting out of this with flattery.” 

“I don’t.” He said, cautiously lifting his gaze over his shoulder. 

She met his tentative gaze with with sparkling eyes and a deviously tilted smile. 

“I know how you love to be punished.” She murmured, pressing her teeth against her lower lip in concentration as she dragged the paddle over his burning skin. 

Chakotay swallowed back a whine. His body instinctively arched toward the smooth glide of the paddle, as if magnetically drawn to the pain and humiliation it promised. 

“Don’t you?” 

Pursing his lips over a groan, he breathed shallowly through his nostrils. He nodded, keeping his eyes pressed shut against the weight of her gaze. He could feel the heat curling up his neck and cheeks, consuming his face in a blaze of humiliated pink. 

The paddle lifted, and his breath hitched. His heart faltered as the seconds stretched on in silence, and just as he opened his eyes to search for the next blow, it came, unerring and exacting. His eyes rolled back as first the pain, then the pleasure washed through his body like a riptide. 

“Ohh…” He moaned, dragging the bedsheets toward his face. 

“What would Valerie think of you now?” Kathryn whispered. 

She swung with the paddle, throwing him harder against the bed. His whole body clenched against the sharp wash of pain that came next, shoving a moan up his throat and past his gritted teeth. 

“I-I don’t know.” He choked out, “I don’t care.” 

“Oh, I know.” Kathryn said, stroking a hand through his hair, “When you’re bent over, this paddle is all you care about.” 

“Yes…” He whispered, the word grating it’s way past clenched teeth. 

The pain jolted through his body with the next precise swing of her arm. It laced through him, luscious and quick, like a drug changing his brain, his perception. His focus was razor-sharp, but concentrated only on two things - the next spanking, and her. This maddening, beautiful woman who held him down like no other. He would let her break him until he was nothing more than the dust left behind by his bones. 

“Is that what you want?” Kathryn murmured, tapping the paddle lightly against him. 

He whined, arching back toward the promise of stinging, burning pain. 

“Yes?” 

“Yes.” He rasped, pressing a fist into the mattress. 

She pulled the paddle back, letting him ache and writhe for mere seconds before she swung again. 

The pain was clarity and pleasure, an acute need that bordered so close between torture and pleasure it was almost indistinguishable. Thoughts of Valerie, the muggy night air around them, and her delicate moans fell away. It was all meaningless, a simple dance on the other side that would soon be forgotten under this present tide of inescapable pleasure and need. No one else knew what he wanted - what he longed for - like Kathryn did. And no else ever would. 

He was in the palm of her hand as she discarded words in exchange for the repetitive monologue of the paddle. The leather kissed his skin over and over, each one carrying weight and pain that forced helpless whimpers to his throat, and throbbing need to his cock. His erection stood stiff and aching between his thighs, bucking through every spanking, and finally, dripping with arousal when she pushed past his pleading moans. 

He twisted and lurched against the sheets, but she held him down with a hand on the back of his neck. His moans dispensed thready and hoarse, as much a plea for mercy as they were a request for more. His skin was on fire, unbearable and erotic; but worse than the sting and ache in his ass was the twisting, lunging pressure in his throbbing cock. He could feel it bubbling up inside, orgasm threatening to milk him into the carpet without ever having felt the wet embrace of her body. 

A growl knotted at the back of his tongue, working itself free with every blow of the paddle. The pain reached past excruciating to a dull, humming ache when he finally allowed the sound to rush past his lips. 

The mangled sound of pain and need brought the steady fall of the paddle to a stop. 

Her hand eased to a caress against the back of his neck, a wordless reassurance. 

He breathed in ragged gasps against the bedspread, searching in vain for his breath, his sanity. A normal person would have pled her to stop by now, he thought. But his pride was still intact, though fragile. 

“All right.” Kathryn said, breaking the rippling silence. “I think you’ve learned your lesson.” 

He let out a breath, happy to defer to her choice. 

She dropped the paddle onto the mattress beside him, and he gazed at the implement through half-lidded eyes, dazed by the cocktail of pain and pleasure it could fuse inside him. 

The rustle of fabric drew his gaze from the paddle to Kathryn. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out her movements as she disrobed. The uniform fell away piece by piece, but her stoic expression of lust, pleasure, and power never faltered. Her firm grip on the captain’s title didn’t fall to the floor with her pips. 

Delirious and euphoric with the stinging pain, he watched her with immutable devotion. Thinking he’d been a fool to ever assume he’d be anything but subordinate to her. 

As she kicked her panties from her ankles, she reached down to slide her fingers through his hair. Her fingers tightened, dragging him upright. He followed the tug on his scalp, wavering on his knees as he slowly oriented to not being bent over. The rush of blood and adrenaline she’d infused into a matter of minutes left him light-headed and strangely blissful. 

He reached out a tentative hand as she shifted between his body and the bed. 

She allowed him to touch her hip, but he didn’t dare lift a finger to the soft, auburn curls and throbbing sex positioned in front of his face. 

Not until she said. 

Kathryn dragged his head back, and their eyes met, wistful and silent in muted desperation for one another. The only signal of her frayed nerves was the slight increase in her breathing and the flush blooming across her cheeks and throat. 

“I’ve been waiting for you.” She whispered. 

Chakotay swallowed thickly, and opened his mouth to offer an apology. Her fingers pressed over his mouth, stemming the words before they could form. 

“While you were down there, fucking her.” She murmured, her eyes darkening and swallowing him. “I was laying in this bed, imagining what I was going to do to you when you finally came back to me.” 

He closed his eyes, willing back a moan. His body still hummed from the beating, and her words were as fiery as the leather. 

“I was wet, thinking about it.” 

His fingers tightened around her hip, aching to delve into her. Aching to throw her down, fuck her senseless. 

“But, I denied myself.” Kathryn continued, her voice shifting to a grating whisper, “I didn’t come.” 

Her fingers stroked from his mouth to his cheek, allowing his low groan to slip past his lips. He opened his eyes to see her sinking to the mattress, completely naked for the first time this night. Her breasts rose against a deep, whimpering sigh, rosy nipples reaching their hardest peak. As she spilled back against the sheets, her pale thighs opened like an invitation. She was glistening with her arousal, even the tight curls bordering her labia soaked with need. 

Chakotay lunged forward, not waiting for verbal permission to be given. He could take the paddle, but her voice was sweet torture he couldn’t bear - the thought of her alone, writhing, and unsatisfied because of him even worse. 

Her hands clutched around his hair as he pressed his mouth against her. The sweet flavor of her arousal rushed across his tongue, exploding fresh need and dizzying satisfaction through his body. 

She arched, her thin cry piercing the silence. 

He gripped her thighs with trembling hands, struggling to pace himself with this act. His brain was alight with fierce, destructive need, but this tender part of her needed the gentle stroke of his tongue. 

Pulling back, he leaned his forehead against her inner thigh. Breathing in, breathing out. 

She stroked his hair, nudging and guiding his mouth back against her. His eyes fluttered open to see her gazing down at him in abject need. Her belly trembled with the clutch of arousal, and her thighs quivered around him. 

A whine rose from her twisted mouth as he pressed his tongue against her, lapping up the drizzle of wetness. She gushed against his mouth with every stroke of his tongue, and as he slowly worked his way up against her clit, he could feel the tremble of orgasm beginning to ripple from her belly outward. 

He licked her clitoris in a few long, priming strokes before pausing against the sensitive peak. She shuddered and gasped, her hips snapping against his mouth as he formed a firm, gradual circle around the swollen, tender bud. 

“Oh!” Her sharp exclamation sent pleasure tingling through him, down into his cock. 

Adjusting his grip on her hips, he dragged her harder against him, and unleashed a steady, relentless rhythm with tongue against her clitoris. 

She writhed and stiffened against him, her feet knocking helplessly against his shoulders. She grabbed at the bedsheets, her fingers flexing and yanking with every stroke of his tongue. He could feel her grow wetter and wetter beneath his tongue until, after little prelude, orgasm unraveled her. 

She bucked into his mouth, rewarding the lap of his tongue with gush after gush of sweet, heady release. Breathless, ragged cries followed every spasm, turning to hoarse whimpers only when the pleasure had washed through every part of her, and she was falling limp against the sheets. 

Her legs drifted away, allowing him to lift his head. 

He fell back against his heels, wiping his mouth with a swipe of his hand. The ease of her pleasure aroused him further, leaving his cock aching unbearably. He’d gone through the punishment, and he’d deferred to her orgasm. The thought of waiting any longer was one so torturous he could hardly consider. Yet he never knew when she was done with him, even after she put the paddle down. 

Pushing herself upright, Kathryn scraped disheveled hair back from her face. 

She regarded him with cool satisfaction for a few moments before she planted her feet on the floor, and rose with ease - as if he hadn’t delivered such a masterful orgasm. 

“You know,” She said, pacing away from him, “we’ve just narrowly escaped an all-out war with a species never encountered by anyone in the Alpha Quadrant. Your part in it cannot be ignored.” 

His gaze crept up from the carpet to find her gazing down at him with a devious smile, both dreading and hoping for her next remark. 

“Your undercover work was integral.” Kathryn said, her tongue curling against her upper lip. Her eyes narrowed, and she waved a finger at him. “But I don’t believe I’ve received your tactical report yet.” 

He gazed at her, half-dumb, half-paralyzed by what she was saying. 

“It should have been on my desk …” Kathryn cast a flippant gaze at the clock, “... over an hour ago.” 

A series of retorts - all of them scathing, none of them respectful - surged through his mind. Disbelief filtered a cold trickle of dread down his chest, into his belly, yet in no way altered his raging erection. 

“It’s not a very good example for the crew if my first officer can’t even deliver a tactical report on time.” Kathryn said, “You should rectify that, don’t you think?” 

He opened his mouth to speak, but her cutting glance rebuked the objection before it could manifest. 

“Put your clothes on.” She said, waving a finger at his crumpled uniform, “And come back here when your job is done - properly.” 

He wanted to curse. Scream. 

It didn’t matter that he’d had sex just last night - that was Valerie, a pale reflection, an act, an experience so subpar it was hardly worth a footnote in he and Kathryn’s own illustrious relationship. She’d been a chess piece, skillfully moved between them for tonight’s payoff. Nothing more. He couldn’t recall the staid, unremarkable pleasure of fucking her with Kathryn gazing down at him with all her appeal - and her cruelty - bared. 

But he breathed deep. He swallowed it back. 

And rising stiffly from the floor, he gathered his clothing and dressed in front of her with his cock still throbbing away at the beat of it’s drum. 

He tore  his eyes away from her as he turned to go. A lengthy report awaited him, he reminded himself. There was no time to waste. 

 

~

 

Under normal circumstances, Chakotay held himself to the same standards he set for his subordinates. He expected, even demanded, punctuality and accuracy in every aspect of duty - including reports. And he knew Kathryn was no less of a taskmaster when it came to her officers’ jobs being done correctly. 

As he toiled over the tactical report this evening, the task had never been more difficult. He’d taken his padd and tricorder to his office, hoping the formal setting would help him concentrate, but his body would not be distracted from what had already occurred behind closed doors, and what was promised to come. 

He pressed his fingertips to his forehead as he leaned over the report. A dull ache thrummed through him, shutting out any logical thought that pertained to the report. He shifted in the chair, breathing out slowly to ease the pressure compounding in his chest and belly. Dropping a tentative hand to his crotch, he felt himself erect and rigid below his uniform. Stubborn and demanding, it wouldn’t be pleased until she’d drained every drop of release from him. 

He cracked his eyes open to see the few lines of text he’d added to the report in the last ten minutes. At this rate, he would be here for the next three hours. 

He dropped his fist to the desk, uttering a strangled curse. 

He thought of getting up, and marching down to the hall to Kathryn’s quarters. He thought first of forcing his way in, and throwing her down on the bed, fucking into her while she howled and scratched like a wildcat. Knowing instantly it wouldn’t work, he thought of pleading for mercy instead. She’d always appreciated his devotion, his willingness to lay aside his pride for her. Perhaps he could convince her that this report could wait until tomorrow.  

But he knew damn well it wasn’t about the report. 

This test was about his ability to match her own endurance.

She’d spent a full day alone while he was down in the simulation with Valerie; and while she had been eager to get him back in her bed, he knew the captain in her couldn’t help but be worried for his safety. He’d gone undercover against an enemy that had nearly destroyed them, that they knew had the power to kill a human in seconds. And while she’d approved the mission, he’d taken a few risks he hadn’t put past her first. 

Sleeping with Valerie was a risky addition to an already tenuous plan. 

He couldn’t blame her for being resentful, if not downright angry. 

Chakotay pressed his eyes shut, and took a deep, calming breath. If Kathryn had survived the past few days while he was down in the simulation, he could survive one tactical report. 

For the next hour, he pushed through the data and dictation to finish the report. Not trusting himself with accuracy, he ran a spell and grammar check to make certain Kathryn wouldn’t find yet another infraction to punish him for. 

When he was as satisfied with the report as he expected Kathryn to be, he rose from the desk, and carried the padd down the hall to her quarters. As he drew closer to the door, a wave of heat rose up his chest and throat. The low hum of need he had forced to the back of his mind lashed out with a vengeance, his repressed body returning to the aching point in a matter of seconds. 

His fingers shook as he lifted his hand to ring her doorbell. 

When the door opened, he rushed inside, his gaze sweeping the room for her. 

She reclined on her sofa, her uniform transposed for a cream colored nightgown. The skirt was bunched around her hips, her pale legs exposed and stretched open across the cushions. The luscious, silk folds of the gown barely concealed the position of her fingers between her legs. 

She cast him a smoky gaze and a coy smile as he gazed at her in aroused silence. 

“Your report?” She murmured, her voice crackling across his frayed nerves. 

She slid her fingers from beneath the edge of the gown, and stretched out her hand to take the padd from him. 

He took a few faltering steps closer, and gaze the padd to her. 

His gaze followed her legs up to the thin fold of fabric covering her pussy. His breath caught in the back of his throat, and a shaft of need nearly eviscerated him from the base of his cock to the middle of his chest. He curled his hands into fists at his sides, reigning in the need that bucked wildly against this official exchange between first officer and captain. 

Kathryn read over the report with a lackluster expression. He expected she wasn’t absorbing much of the information, but enjoying his squirming while he waited. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Kathryn sat upright on the sofa, and discarded the padd on the coffee table. 

“Chakotay…” She said, slowly, staggering his name into as many syllables as possible. 

He pursed his lips over an audible moan, and fixed his gaze calmly on hers. 

“I’m impressed.” She said, arching a brow, “You delivered the report in less time than I expected, and with fewer mistakes.” 

If this situation had been formal rather than sexual, he would have offered to fix whatever mistakes she had found right away. But right now, he didn’t give a damn about a misspelled word or one decimal point difference in the data log. 

“Remembering your own stamina and forbearance over the last few days helped me persevere through it.”  He replied. 

“Ahh,” Kathryn said, almost sighing the sound of appreciation. 

She rose from the sofa, allowing the gown to slip free of her hips and cascade to her ankles. She approached him, her gaze fixed and sparkling with desire. 

She paused just a few inches from him, close enough for her chest to brush his when she breathed in deep. 

Chakotay clenched his jaw against the urge to grab onto her. Her skin was soft and creamy in the pale light, her cheeks florid with arousal. The glow on every inch of her body was one of sustained need, of tender, aching parts ready to explode at the slightest friction. 

“Chakotay…” She uttered his name again, this time in a low, choked whisper. 

The sound snapped his control, and his hand broke from its clutched position at his side. She gasped softly as he clutched her jaw, dragging her cheek against against his face. His mouth and nose pressed into her soft, flushed cheek, spilling the scent of her skin across his senses. 

A tremble rippled through his arm and hand, into her jaw, and she offered a low, breathy moan in response. 

“Chakotay-”

His other hand clapped against her hip, dragging her against him. Their chests collided, and lower, his cock dug into her belly. His fingers curled around her flank, dragging the fine material of her gown taut. 

She grabbed onto the front of his uniform, her knuckles blanching white against the bright red of his jacket. A shudder worked it’s way through her, expelling in a wavering sigh that bordered on a whimper. 

“I’ve done everything you asked.” He said, his voice a grinding whisper against her cheek, “I’ve proven my loyalty.” 

“Yes …” She panted. 

He slid his hand down her jaw until his fingers wrapped around her throat. She stretched her neck open to the gradual squeeze of his fist, a groan vibrating into the palm of his hand. 

“Is this how you took her?” She whispered, her voice choked and smothered under the clench of his hand. “Valerie?” 

He pulled back just enough to glimpse her wide eyes, glassy and blinking swiftly with desire. Red spilled up her throat and cheeks as her pulse hastened under the grip of his fingers around her throat. 

She saw the answer resting heavily in his eyes, details of the sordid night spilling freely  from his every pore. 

“Good.” She rasped, her eyes sliding shut, “Good, Chakotay … Fuck me like you fucked her.” 

He tightened his grip, expecting some sort of ploy to follow her words. 

But she opened her eyes, honesty and blatant desire blazing in their depths. 

“Do it.” She whispered, her lips curling back with ferocious desire.

He released her, and she sucked in a rattling, gasping breath. She was still reeling from the rush of blood and oxygen when he grabbed her by the hips, and pushed her around to face the sofa. He nudged her forward, mouth latching onto her bare shoulder as they made their way to the edge of the cushions. 

A gasp jumped from her lips when he forced her down to her knees on the edge of the sofa with a firm hand in the middle of her back. He bent her forward, and she arched under the pressure of his palm, her ass pushing up in an audacious display. 

He grabbed the hem of the dress, and dragged it up, offering little ceremony to the act. He bunched the skirts around her hips, baring her arched backside. She was as vulnerable now as he had been just an hour ago; the thought infused heady arousal into the already steady pulse of need rippling through him. He pulled in a slow, shaking breath, willing his hands not to shake with the force of desire.

His cock bucked against his trousers, hastening the attendance of his hand. He jarred into motion, grappling with the fasten of his pants with one hand while he gripped Kathryn’s hip with the other. 

She threw a glance over her shoulder, her eyes flashing with urgency, her lower lip red under the pull of her teeth. A groan worked past her clenched jaw as he dropped his trousers, and peeled his boxers back from his throbbing erection. He was flushed red with the persistent drum of need that had hounded him for the past hour, and twitching freely. 

Kicking his tangled pants and boxers from his ankles, Chakotay eased closer to her. She kept her gaze pinned to him from over her shoulder as he pressed up against her naked ass, dragging the hard length of his cock between her cheeks. 

A shudder slid through him, and into her, both of them moaning in muted desperation. 

“Is this how you did it?” She whispered, her voice twisted with dark curiosity. 

“Yes.” Chakotay murmured, “But I had my fist wrapped around her hair.” 

She gave a hitched, excited breath, and nodded. “Do it.” 

Exhilaration left him light-headed as he slid his palm up her back, and delved his fingers into her nape. He curled his fingers around a handful of hair, keeping the pace gradual until he felt her scalp pull taut against his knuckles. Her head tilted back against the pull, a sigh and a moan drifting from her mouth. 

“I bet she was shaking, begging mess.” Kathryn said, each word low and guttural with need, “ _ Aching  _ for your cock.” 

Chakotay slipped his hand between them to  note the slick arousal gathering at her labia. She arched, but his fist tightened around her hair. 

“Just like you are.” He whispered against her cheek. 

She moaned as he slid his fingers deeper, past her labia, into her swollen, tight entrance.

“I’m not desperate.” She panted, “I’m entirely in control.” 

Chakotay eased back to allow his hand more room to work into her. She arched, her voice breaking off into a moan as he pumped two fingers at a deep, languid rhythm into her. 

“Is this what control feels like?” Chakotay murmured, “When  _ you  _ have  _ me  _ bent over, it doesn’t feel anything like control.” 

“Ohh, don’t think our places have switched.” Kathryn replied, a chuckle working past the moan. 

Chakotay dropped a kiss to her shoulder, and hummed a response. He withdrew his fingers from her, and massaged at her labia for a brief moment before gliding up to find her clitoris sensitive and aching. 

“Oh-” Kathryn choked out, a shiver working through her. 

She twisted against his grip on her hair as he caressed her clitoris for a long, aching moment. Just as he could feel her growing still, straining for orgasm, he pulled his hand away. 

She sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden loss of sensation, but she didn’t plead. He doubted he would ever get that out of her, but having her physically under his control was enough. 

She worked her hips back against him, spine arching just sharply enough to push her wet pussy up against the base of his cock. His chest tightened with a pang of vehement need as she ground against him. 

“Come now, Chakotay…” She murmured, “I know you want inside.” 

His body adhered to hers, as if need had stitched them together. Her voice wound around limb and member, dragging him in. As his cock slid into the wet heat of her body, he let his eyes slide shut and his whole being surrender to this inescapable desire for her. 

Thoughts of Valerie melted away. Ice cream dribbling away under the sun. A small, fleeting treat that disappeared too quickly. 

He rocked against Kathryn, feeling her solid and strong against the penetration of his cock. She pushed back against the rhythm, backside striking his hips forcefully; a reminder that she was taking him just as fiercely as he was taking her. She did not bend or soften under him; she didn’t whimper or whine. She growled low in her throat, the sound of feral pleasure he had come to recognize - and need. It was the sound of his release, a key sliding into a hidden lock and slowly turning, grinding the levers of his tightly wound desires until something deep inside him sprung. 

The heat and pain and agony of the night stacked up against him; he was hardly a match for her cunning, and he collapsed like a fragile house of cards to the slight breeze of pleasure that washed through him. Clinging to her back, he shuddered as the padlock on his pleasure unlatched at the whim of her throaty groan. He came hard and long inside her, spasms rocking him through and through, whimpers threading hoarse and desperate from his throat and into the smooth skin of her neck. 

He rested his forehead against her shoulder as the violent spasms and white lights flashing behind his eyes subsided. A low hum took over his body, the warm, tingling sensation of bliss he’d been longing for since their return from the habitat. 

She reached back to cradle his cheek. It was enough of a response for him to know the long night was expired, punishment doled out, her good favor returned. 

Wordless, they slumped to the couch still entwined. 

He wrapped his arm tightly around her, cradling against his chest into a suffocating embrace that pressed his desperate love into her skin. 

Could she absorb this feeling burning slow and steady through his veins? Could she feel without words all the great and numerous things he felt for her? Gods knew he could not find the words to explain. 

She twisted against him, just far enough to reach her mouth up to his. Her mouth trailed against his chin before finding his mouth open and panting for the intimacy. She crushed a kiss against his lips, still hard edges and severity even in this serendipitous cocoon of ecstasy. 

He smiled into the kiss. It felt like a pleasant dream; but unlike the recreation they had left behind, this moment was entirely real. No fabrication. No parody.

She drew back, looking into his eyes with gentility for the first time this night. The light and shadow in her eyes shifted to leave behind the mantle of captain. 

_ Kathryn.  _ He thought, lifting his hand to caress her cheek. 

He didn’t say it, but the look in her eyes was enough to know that she heard him. That she’d heard every single thought since this secret romance had begun. No matter where they went, or who they shared some short dalliance with, she would always hear him. Above the roar of chaos, above the crash and burn of war, above the black, rushing waters of his own private darkness - somewhere below the tenor of duty and protocol, their voices intersected, and crafted this unique duet. 

 

 ~the end~ 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr!](http://clairehales.tumblr.com//)!


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